Garbage Man (29 page)

‘Hey, be careful, that won't take much weight.'

‘Watch your mouth, Ray.'

‘You know what I'm saying. Just go steady.'

She was up and waving for him to follow. He ran along the rising wall and tested the guttering. It was strong and secure. Once again, he handed her the sword. Pulling himself up was easy. Halfway between them and the bedsits, Jimmy was walking with his arms stretched out to either side for balance, staring at his feet as he heel-toed along.

‘We're not waiting,' said Ray.

The tiles seemed thick and strong but the two of them crawled on all fours to spread their weight out. Ray made it to the apex first, balanced his way to a large chimney and climbed onto its ledge. Delilah stood below him, gripping the chimney hard.

‘You all right?' he asked.

‘Fine. What can you see?'

Ray scanned in silence for several moments.

‘I think I've got a plan.'

‘Go on.'

‘It's a bit sketchy.'

‘Any plan is a good plan right now, Ray.'

‘Okay. From here we can walk to the end of the street on the rooftops. There's a high wall at the last property. It's a bit of a drop, but I think we can get onto the wall and then down to street level again. Park Street is on the left, where the outdoor shop is.'

‘Let's hope they haven't closed early today.'

‘Ha ha. From there we can cross the park to the river, over the bridge and then we'll be on the grounds of the College. I've been meaning to turn up for a few lectures.'

‘Liar.'

‘Whatever. Once we're there, we can go up to the higher levels. Lots of rooms with decent locks on them. Plenty of equipment for dealing with all this trash.'

‘What about the things?'

‘There's plenty of them down there but most of them seem interested in getting to the people and all the people are hiding indoors. The shops and the park look pretty clear.'

‘Ray.'

‘What?'

‘That's actually a really good plan.'

‘Thanks.'

‘I have to admit, I'm kind of surprised.'

‘Well, it was just a matter of . . .' Ray looked down and saw the grin on her face. ‘You know, if we do make it to the College, I'm going to slap your arse.'

‘That's all I need to keep me going, babe.' Ray climbed down from the chimney.

Behind and below them, Jimmy wasn't even halfway along the alley wall. Following him, three large landfill creatures with the right kind of appendages for climbing were catching up. The kid still held his ridiculous, plastic-handled steak knife in his right hand as he faltered along the two-bricks-wide wall.

‘This kid is really bad news, Ray.'

‘I know.' He turned his back on where they'd come from.

‘Let's get moving.'

They walked along the apex, skirting around each chimney with extra care. When they'd made it across two houses, Ray stopped to look back. Jimmy had managed to get as far as the stepped wall. He knew something was behind him but Ray could tell he was too scared to disrupt his balance by looking round, in case he fell. Jimmy got a hand to the guttering, put the knife in his mouth like some gangly pirate and tried to pull himself up. He seemed to lack the necessary strength to do it. The first of the landfill creatures had reached the alley end of the same wall.

‘Christ,' said Ray.

‘We said we'd leave him.'

‘I know what we said but look at him. He's fucked. What if it was you down there, D? Or me?'

‘It isn't.'

‘How can you be so cold?' She took hold of his hands.

‘What about us, Ray? What if, because of the kid, you and I don't make it? Or only one of us makes it? I want a life, Ray, a future with you in it. I don't want to survive all this for nothing.'

‘I want the same thing, D. Believe me. But if we can't take care of people like him, we don't deserve a future. Anyway, think of the guilt you'll feel knowing you could have helped but didn't.' Ray pushed past her. ‘He's coming with us.'

She watched him balance his way back to the first roof they'd climbed. Jimmy was still trying to climb onto the guttering. The way he was doing it would surely bring the whole structure down. Instead of using it to assist a jump, he was letting it support his whole body weight while he tried to get one leg up. It wasn't working. The landfill creatures had reached the first of the steps in the wall. Ray was descending the roof towards Jimmy.

Delilah watched, refusing to move.

‘Shit,' she said.

And then she was hurrying back to them.

***

Mason watched the family come out of the back door like animals testing the air of a new dawn. Mr. Smithfield led the way followed by his wife and then Aggie. This was no longer the world they recognised, certainly not the world they wanted it to be.

From every dwelling in the Meadowlands estate came the screams of people fighting off an army of nightmares. More helicopters circled in the sky, still uncoordinated. Mason saw an air ambulance hesitating to land, a couple of circling TV choppers, a police surveillance helicopter and the arrival of something that looked more military - something big enough to contain troops perhaps. He didn't believe any of the aircraft or their crews could do much good. He doubted anyone really understood what they were faced with.

He'd instructed Mr. Smithfield to bring his car keys. All they had to do was get inside the Volvo and they'd be safe. For a while.

‘Follow me,' he said to the Smithfields, ‘And stay as close as you can. We'll have to move quickly so don't get separated.'

‘Where are we going?' asked Mr. Smithfield.

‘I'm not sure yet. Do you have much fuel?'

‘I filled it up yesterday.'

‘Good.'

Mason walked to the gate and opened it. The others hesitated.

‘Please, you have to stay right with me. Close enough to touch me or you won't be safe.'

Richard and Pamela Smithfield exchanged glances then, wondering at the idea of touching this man. Was he some kind of deviant here to kidnap them? Mason saw the look but he didn't let it bother him. Nor did he wait. He opened the gate and walked quickly towards the car. Immediately the Smithfields appeared at the front of the house, all the living garbage on their front lawn and on the two neighbouring properties swarmed towards them.

Mr. Smithfield looked around in incomprehension.

‘Please hurry,' said Mason.

Mr. Smithfield pressed the key fob and the doors unlocked. Aggie and his wife jumped in and closed their doors but he stood a moment longer watching the creatures approach with a look of horrified curiosity. Mason opened the passenger door and got in. Creatures converged on the car from all sides.

‘Mr. Smithfield, get in the car. NOW.'

Richard's reverie broke and he walked around to the driver's side. In front of the door was a creature with six desk-lamp legs and the teeth of a dog in its hinged head. It snapped at his leg and he jerked away as if realising for the time that he was in danger. Animated refuse approached from every direction. The dog-thing was not put off and it advanced, causing Mr, Smithfield to retreat towards the front of the car. Looking behind him, he realised just how many creatures were now coming his way.

In the car Aggie screamed,

‘Dad! Hurry up!'

His wife's hand went to the door handle but Mason spun in his seat and pulled her away.

‘You help him, then,' Pamela yelled. ‘For God's sake, do something.'

Not knowing what exactly he would do if one of the creatures got hold of Mr. Smithfield, Mason stepped out of the car again, careful to shut the door behind him immediately. The creatures nearest to him hesitated. He put himself between Mr. Smithfield and the ones approaching from the front of the house. They stopped moving.

In front of Mr. Smithfield, the six legged thing was advancing fast. Mason touched his arm.

‘Let me get in front of you. I'll block it.'

The creature didn't wait for that. It lunged, snapping its canine jaws. Mr. Smithfield jerked his leg out of the way reflexively, stumbling back into Mason. A strange laugh, like a popping bubble escaped his mouth.

‘Bloody thing tried to bite me.'

With the laugh came realisation. Mason saw a new tension tighten Mr. Smithfield's frame. The next thing he saw was

Mr. Smithfield's right foot arcing up under the dog-headed creature's front section. It broke open on impact and the thing flew back to land among the dozens more behind it. Mr. Smithfield launched himself around the front of the Volvo and snatched the door open, turning the engine over before Mason was properly back in his seat.

‘We have to go away,' said Richard Smithfield, more to his steering wheel than to his family. ‘Far, far away from here.'

Mason looked at him and then at his wife and daughter. They were not special. They were just people. Living things from the old world succumbing to the dead things of the new. He wondered why he'd bothered to come back for them when they couldn't think properly, couldn't see what was really going on here. Didn't they even begin to understand what all this meant? What it was leading to? Aggie, at least, should have known better but she didn't care any more than her family. All she'd done was sever contact with him.

‘I don't think that's going to work, Mr. Smithfield. What we really need to do is find somewhere nearby where we can be safe for a while. A place where we can wait.'

‘Wait? What the hell are you talking about, “wait”? Wait for what?'

‘To be certain about their motives. To see if we can . . . communicate, construct . . .
relationships
with them.'

‘We don't talk to shit - whether it walks or crawls. Someone should be down here blowing these freaks into fart-clouds.' As though he'd summoned his own angels into view, two hovering blots appeared over the houses of another street on the estate. ‘See those? They're helicopter gunships. That's what's going to save us. That's what's going to turn this around.'

Aggie giggled at her father's language and then shut up when she saw he wasn't being funny. Something crawled up onto the bonnet of the car and both she and her mother screamed. Mr. Smithfield slipped the Volvo into reverse and pounded the accelerator. Everyone's heads snapped forwards as the car leapt back. The smell of rot and excrement was heavy in the small space - it came from Mr. Smithfield's fouled right shoe. No one was prepared to roll down the window to let the smell out, however. The thing on the bonnet, something black with light bulb eyes, slid back onto the driveway where its eyes shattered. Mason heard it scream but he didn't think anyone else did. Perhaps he'd only felt it. Perhaps he'd only imagined it.

‘You know, Mr. Smithfield,' he said as the head of the family reversed the car around in a tight curve and thrust the gear lever into drive, ‘That's the kind of attitude we really need to dispense with if any of us are going to survive this.'

The car screamed out of Bluebell Way, dodging obstacles all the way. Behind them came the whine of high-speed chain-gunfire and the whump of a gas tank exploding. Mason strained around in his seat in time to see a black smoke cloud, with fire bursting inside it, roil skyward. He'd been a fool to come here, he realised. What was he doing delaying his final moment this way? And for these people who thought - or failed to think - in just the same way everyone else did? There was no point to it.

Mr. Smithfield had turned his car onto the main road into Shreve, but he was driving away from town. Mason turned to him.

‘Stop the car.'

‘What? No. No way.'

‘Stop and let me out. Then you can continue with your family wherever you want to go.'

‘You said you were here to help us. You're not going anywhere until you get us to safety.'

Mason took a deep breath, pushed his lips out as if deciding something.

‘How do you know you're safe with me?'

He felt the atmosphere in the car shift and swell.

‘How do you know you can trust me? Aren't you curious why those things out there never came near me? Don't you think it's strange?'

Mason looked into the back of the car and his eyes met Aggie's for a few brief moments. He knew she didn't intend to keep her promise. Her mother must have seen the look passing between them but, for the moment, she ignored it. Perhaps later she'd question her daughter about it. Discover that this was not the first time they'd ever met.

Already the car had slowed to below the speed limit. Richard

Smithfield looked at his gaunt passenger.

‘What are you talking about?'

‘I don't think you really want me in your car, Mr. Smithfield. Not with your family.'

The car slammed to a halt.

‘You'd better explain.'

‘I know where your son is.'

Mrs. Smithfield stifled a strange whimper in the back of the car. In it, Mason heard the twined hope and despair of a mother wishing her child safe, of a mother not knowing.

‘Donald's . . . alive?'

‘That's very difficult to say, Mrs. Smithfield.'

Mr. Smithfield's voice was flat and direct, barely contained.

‘Well, you'd better find a way of saying it, or it's going to be very difficult to say whether
you're
alive or not.'

‘I didn't kill him but I might as well have,' said Mason, more to himself than to the boy's family. ‘It's my fault he's where he is now.'

Up ahead, swarming over the hedges were more landfill creatures, larger ones that had been feeding longer and on more varied prey. They moved in jerks and stumbles or humped along like sea animals trapped on land. But they were faster, stronger than the others. They moved with more certainty. There were enough to block the road. Mason glanced behind. More were waiting in the direction they'd come from. Mr. Smithfield followed Mason's eyes.